Right Dream, Wrong Time
by CalvinCosmos
Summary: Future Brittana. After parting ways a few years ago, Santana's past love knocks on her door, something that she had been dreaming about since she said her emotional 'goodbye' to Brittany. It's just a shame that both their lives have moved on conciderably.
1. Bzzzzzzzt

"You see, it was no accident, she bad mouthed me, so I spilt a glass of wine all down her lovely chiffon dress, red wine comes out of white chiffon right?" Santana laughed down the phone. After a brief pause, she continued her retelling of the events of a few hours ago. "No! Obviously someone has made up some bullshit story to make that bitch sound good. Basically she was milling around all the rich guys there, she was talking to them about the horses she apparently rides regularly, horses here meaning needy men's dicks. I was just minding my own business walking past, and she clicks her fingers at me, she raises her arm into the air, turns and looks at me right in the eyes, and clicks, three god damn times. So, being the helpful girl I am I go over, and that's when it all started..." Bzzzzzzzt. "Hang on, someone's at the door."

Santana rose from the sofa, one hand still holding the phone to her ear, she crossed the small distance of her open plan apartment and approached the door. Bzzzzzzzt. "I dunno who it is; I haven't even got to the door yet! Probably the neighbours or someone from the bar wanting me to pay for the dry cleaning bill." She reached for the circular brass door handle and turned it, she pulled the door open like she would if it had been any normal visitor. How was she supposed to know that this wasn't just an ordinary visit? "B... Brit...?"

The blonde rain-soaked old friend stood on the sidewalk outside Santana's door, her eyes fixed on an unimportant spot on the ground, wearing an oversized white shirt, so soaked that her blue polka dot bra was visible, and what looked like a 1960's inspired plaid blue mini skirt covering her thighs, hand clutched around a fluffy pink handbag that had also been drenched by the downpour of that night. The blonde looked up to catch a glimpse of her past love, making it obvious that she had previously been sobbing. Santana, phone still tightly clasped to her ear just stared in amazement. "Gonna have to call you back." She said down the phone. Still staring into the eyes of the wet woman, Santana tucked the phone into her jean pocket.

"I... I..." The doe eyed blonde uttered, obviously choked up.

"What... Ummm... I guess it would be best for us to talk inside, where you can't catch pneumonia." Santana slowly turned in the doorway, making room for the upset girl to squeeze through into Santana's apartment. The girl obliged, dragging herself into the warmth, leaving the torrential weather in her wake. Santana stared out into the rain where the girl had previously been standing, hoping she was hallucinating or something, or dreaming, this was a dream after all, she had been dreaming that this day might actually come since she said goodbye to the former love of her life. But not now, she didn't want this to be happening right now. She closed the front door and turned to confront her dream. "Coffee?"


	2. Changing

"Oh no... You never liked coffee did you...? Ummm... coke?" Santana hurried to the fridge, frantically opening the door and pulling out a can. She placed it on the kitchen surface, not wanting to force it upon Brittany. "I best get you a change of clothes, take a seat of the couch, I'll wipe it down afterwards, it'll be fine..." She stared at the unmoving blonde whose eyes were still fixated on the wooden flooring of Santana's apartment, rain drops steadily dripping off of her and creating a small puddle. "You can't really stay in those mismatched clothes can you?" Whenever Santana spoke, her words were rushed, panicky. Waiting a moment for a response, Santana surveyed the girl she once shared a choir room, and a bed, with.

Santana opened the wardrobe in her room and stopped for a moment. She tried to think about what she should do next, what she should say, but no answers were formulating in her clouded mind. She rifled through her clothing, everything being stylish and perfect for Santana's thin but toned body shape, various faux-designer dresses and shoes, and then she came across the perfect t-shirt. To go with it she plucked some other ordinary garments, she knew none of her bras would fit Brittany, but hoped a pair of black panties and grey pyjama bottoms would fit just fine. For some reason it felt perfectly natural for Santana to let Brittany wear her clothes, even her panties. She closed the wardrobe, and her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Walking back into the living room/kitchen area she was happy to see that Brittany had finally taken a seat on the couch. "Here, I brought something for you to change into." Santana said, causing the fragile blonde to jump a little, swiftly turning her head to face Santana holding the pile of clean clothes. Brittany stopped clutching her purse and laid it down on the glass table, pushing herself off of the couch, running her delicate fingers through her matted hair.

"Thank you Santana." She managed to say. Santana's eyes became noticeably larger and a smile crept across her face, to hear her high school love speak again felt magical. Suddenly Santana was brought back down to earth at the sight of Brittany unbuttoning the drenched shirt, top to bottom, revealing the bra that held two of Santana's favourite things a few years ago. She knew that it shouldn't have, but Santana's heart started to beat faster, she started having somewhat sexual flashbacks, clothes optional, not helped by the fact that she was now watching the wet skirt peel off of Brittany's thighs. And there she stood, looking exactly the same as she did however many years ago, so innocent, so perfect. "Can I have those?" Brittany gestured towards the folded clothes in the reminiscent Santana's arms. Santana was now the quiet one, handing the clothes to the semi-nude woman in her apartment. She couldn't keep her eyes off of her, her lips, her eyes, her hair, her body; they all looked so perfect even after being in torrential rain. "Oh my god Santana you kept this t?" Brittany smiled; looking down in surprise at the t-shirt she was now wearing, 'LEBANESE' sprawled in bold black lettering across the bust. "It's a bit small, but I'll be fine! I've worn smaller..."

Brittany placed both hands on either side of her panties. "Oh!" Santana panicked, turning around quick enough to hide her blushes. "Brit Brit... I can't be doing this... I have a girlfriend!"


End file.
